Maskenspiel
by gooddayworld
Summary: Roderick is an Austrian noble who has closed himself out from the rest of the world. An upcoming ball and its preparations may change his world forever. For the better or the worst, all because of his father and his connection to that cold Prussian king, and his two sons. aristocratAustriaxRebellious PrincePrussia, human AU, rating: T for safety, rating may change


Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or anything mentioned in this fanfic. NOTHING I OWN NOTHING!

Roderich swiftly marched down the corridor; he was on his way to meet his father who apparently had to speak with him on important news. He made his way to the door of his father's study where he rapped his knuckles several times on the wooden door to produce an audible knock. After a brief amount of time spent waiting a response could be heard.

"Come in, the door is unlocked."

The brunet slowly opened the door, cautious not to create too much noise and came in to see his father sitting at his desk across the room with a rather neutral expression displayed on his face. Yet even though his father barely displayed any aggression at all throughout Roderich's life, he still felt very intimidated being in the same room as his only parent.

Roderich's family was of lordship and high wealth, he had lived inside the security of his home for almost his whole life. The soon to be master of the prestigious Edelstein family was not permitted to go outside of the "safe" area of the city in which his house was placed upon, where all those of high wealth could live and rot away slowly never knowing what the word 'poverty' actually meant. Because of this Roderich felt almost no need to go outside, and thus he had closed himself in and spent his free hours playing the piano. Over the years he had become quite good at what he did and played nearly every moment he could. It became a relief for his day to day stresses of holding his position, and could be considered as an escape from his own thoughts.

His father's glare felt as it was burning holes straight through him and he became attentive as his elder began to speak.

"My son, there is something we should talk about," the older of the two began.

The young heir straightened his back and adjusted to perfect posture before speaking.

"Well that is what you have summoned me here for isn't it?" replied the brunette, trying his hardest not to sound disrespectful.

Roderich could have sworn he saw his father's face soften a little from his usual dim frown. "Please sit down, this discussion may be brief but not short enough for it to be done within the minute."

The younger Edelstein nodded and walked across the room to get to where desk was at the end of the walkway where he took a chair in front of his father. The room was quiet; the only sound that could be heard outside was the birds, seemingly always chirping their joyful tunes lacking the sounds of despair and regret in their voices.

"What did you want to talk to me about father?" questioned the brunette.

"There is a formal ball coming up and you are now at the age were you should be able to dance properly" stated the current head, still sizing up his son unintentionally with his cold glare and aura.

Roderich took a moment to perceive what his father had just said. He had never been to a ball before, nor had he ever had the urge to attend one.

The young aristocrat already got to work thinking of a way to get out of going, for he had been offered several times attend formal dances but every single time he had managed to find a way out of going.

But it just occurred to Roderich that he might be able to have a say in whether he would attend. "Father" he spoke,

"I have no desire to socialize with people I hardly know through dancing at this event. I would strongly prefer to stay home and write sheet music as opposed to going."

The elder's expression grew colder. "Son, as nobles it is our responsibility to attend these events, for it helps our family gain the homage of others, in which believe it or not, is very important."

The brunet let out a concealed sigh in his utter disgust of the situation. Roderich had never danced with anyone before, not that he could remember, and as far as he or anyone else knew he did not have the coordination to do it well either.

But just before Roderich could utter another word his father spoke up:

"From what I can tell you need someone to tutor you, and luckily the king and his sons are visiting tomorrow. One of his sons overheard the situation when I was conversing with the king in a previous discussion I had at his mansion, and volunteered to help. I expect your best behavior."

"As you wish, father," replied Roderich without fully thinking through his response.

The musician now fully registered his father's words and could not believe what he had just heard. He would be dancing with a prince and he would be dancing with a PRINCE as in a MAN. On top of that he would probably end up stepping on the prince's feet about 25 times at the least, and who knows what kind of grudge he would hold.

Slowly anxiety built up inside of the younger Edelstein, although it did not show up much on his face at all.

A seemingly long period of silence took place between the two of them before Roderich was dismissed.

Not much else happened that day. Between his constant studies and dinner, much too busy to even get within three feet of his piano. His academics tutor, Romulus decided it would be a great time to start pushing Roderich a little harder by making him review several books on philosophy and history.

By the end of the day he was absolutely fatigued and headed directly for bed after dinner was served. Roderich got lost for a little while within the seemingly vast amount of rooms, chambers and hallways within his own home but eventually reached his organized and somewhat spacious room where he crawled under the covers of his large bed and made a feeble attempt to sleep.

But with all efforts in vain, he mentally recapped his father's exact words in his head.

Sleep was now impossible and Roderich went and sat down at his well crafted wooden desk and began to tap his fingers against the desk in the fashion one would play the piano. Chopin was fingered out on the desk for several hours until the young master could be found sleeping peacefully at his desk.


End file.
